


So Unethical

by InsightfulInsomniac



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: M/M, Phone Sex, Smut, Student/Teacher Ik it's wrong, Web is Lieb's professor, phone sex operator, pure trashy smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 16:38:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10925802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsightfulInsomniac/pseuds/InsightfulInsomniac
Summary: Joe's a broke college student working as a phone sex operator when he gets an unexpected client that sounds suspiciously like his English professor.





	So Unethical

**Author's Note:**

> Another "imagine your otp" prompt making me write trashy smut. The prompt called for a college student phone sex operator and a professor who happens to call in, and I thought it screamed Web and Lieb.

Joe sighs, lazily flicking through his art history textbook, barely reading the words on the page. A steaming cup of black coffee sits next to the stack of books on the coffee table, ready to supply him with the boost of caffeine when work gets slow.

The ring of his Bluetooth headset brings him back to reality, back to work. As a struggling college student and an _art major,_ no less, Lieb works as much as he possibly can. But again, as a college student, he barely has time to work.

Thus, he accepted the ridiculous job offer his bastard of a best friend, Alley, suggested.

"You could be one of those phone sex operators or shit," he smirked across the table, taking a swig of his beer. "Work from home, get off on it too."

"Like hell I'd do that," Lieb had replied. "I'd just get a bunch of fuckin' lunatics askin' me to suck their dicks."

Alley raised his eyebrows. "Isn't that what you look for at bars anyway?"

Joe had retorted with a creative string of expletives, only making Alley laugh. Though he hated to admit it, his friend had a point. Two days later, he applied to Gayline Chat Central, an awful job with an even worse name.

It was difficult at first, with Joe not taking shit from anyone who called. He was not enthusiastic about his job, and he was going to voice his displeasure.

He was known as the bitch of the hotline, but some guys liked that. That saved his job.

"Joe, you've got someone on the line. Are you available to take them?" Carrie, the regular nightly operator, asks him, breaking him of his reverie.

He sighs again, not even shutting his textbook. "Yeah, sure. Have I had 'im before?"

"Nope, sounds like he's a newbie."

Joe groans. "Great. A fuckin' rookie."

"I can patch him over to someone else if you'd like."

More callers means more money. "No, I'll take him."

Carrie clicks off, and Joe awaits the voice of his new client. There are two types of rookies: the nervous and the overzealous.

When a shaky "Hello?" echoes in his ear, Lieb knows he's in for a nervous, awkward session.

"Hey, gorgeous," he purrs, laying on the syrupy-thick husk he reserves for his introductions. "Do you want me take your big cock or should I fuck you with mine?"

The voice on the other line swallows audibly. "Uh, _gottverdammt_ , I'm not really sure how to do this."

Holy fuck.

Joe would recognize that voice anywhere, anytime. The blue eyes, dark hair, and pouty lips materialize before his eyes, painting a sinful picture in his mind. _Professor Hottie_ , the voice in his head whispers, and he silently corrects himself.

Professor David Webster, the youngest professor at the university, and the teacher of Joe's current English class.

"Uh, hello? Should I be saying something?"

" _Fuck_ ," Joe whispers under his breath, unable to form coherent thoughts. Professor Hottie is the subject of many a college student's fantasies, he's sure, with his devilishly good looks and piercing blue eyes. Lieb had made it his personal mission to seduce him from his seat in the lecture hall, eye-fucking him with every ounce of his being.

He never expected David (as he had told his students to call him) to return his flirtatious gestures, but he'd caught him staring right back, red in the face, more than a few times.

"What are you wearing, _Professor_?" Lieb finally manages to choke out, putting emphasis on his title. He should've hung up, but who was he to deprive a man of some pleasure?

"Shit," Joe hears, a gasp accompanying his exclamation. "Joe? What the fuck are you doing here?"

Lieb snorts. "I work here, dumbass. I asked you a question; what are you wearing?"

"This—this isn't right," Webster stutters, sighing. "God, I'm going to get fired..."

"It's not like I'm one of your horny underclassmen," Lieb protests before he can hang up. "C'mon, you came here for a reason. You're not even that much older than me, if that's what's you're worried about."

"You're my student," David deadpans. "That's against the code of honor."

"I won't say anything," Joe hums lowly, finding himself wanting David to stay on the line. "I bet you're wearing a button down, probably unbuttoned by two buttons near the collar."

"I—" Webster sighs. "Yeah, I am. A maroon shirt."

"Mm," Lieb murmurs. "I have thought about ripping that shirt off of you since class started, Professor."

"This is so unethical," David groans. "Don't ever come to class after this; I'll give you an A."

Joe clucks his tongue teasingly. "Ah, but what's the fun in that? I want you to think about fucking me every time you see me, Professor."

" _Joe_ ," Webster moans, sounding rather defeated. "Fine, _fuck_ , what now?"

"You like when I call you professor, Professor?" Lieb teases darkly, earning another moan from Webster.

"God, Joe, just get on with it."

"I see you checking me out in class, Professor," Lieb continues. "Eyes wandering, mouth open, looking like some fuckin' porn star..."

"I don't do that on purpose," David retorts breathily. "The mouth thing, that is."

Joe exhales. "Jesus Christ, that's your normal face? Fuck."

"Tell me what you'd do to my mouth."

"Getting bold, are we, Professor?" Lieb taunts. "Well, since you asked... I'd bite that goddamn huge bottom lip of yours, maybe pull your hair..."

" _Fuck_ , keep going."

Joe would be lying if he said that he wasn't turned on by his undoubtedly sexy English professor begging for him, and though he vowed to never get off to any of his work calls, he decides to break tradition.

"I'd rip that perfectly presses shirt off of you, maybe tear a few buttons off," Lieb groans, pushing down the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers. "Run my fingers through your chest hair..."

"You know about that?" Webster asks, panting. Joe smirks, almost laughing. "I've seen it peeking out of your shirt. It's fuckin' hot."

"Mm, Joe, I'd tell you to hurry up and get your clothes off," David adds, becoming more confident. Lieb moans, beginning to wonder if Professor Webster is his actually client or his phone-sex buddy.

"I'd say you're an eager bastard, Web," Joe goads. "Can I call you that, Web?"

"You can call me whatever you'd like."

"Alright, _Princess_ , I'd undo your belt and sink to my knees, never looking away from your fuckin' blue eyes."

"My hands would be in your hair," Web breathes, another breathy moan escaping his lips. "You'd probably lick your lips, knowing you."

"You're incorrect, Professor. I'd already have my mouth on your cock."

Webster moans loudly, the noise echoing in Lieb's ears. Joe strokes himself quicker, imagining the scenario clearer than the abandoned textbook pushed off of his lap.

"Fuck, Joe, you're so good, must've had some practice."

"Maybe, but I've only pictured you since I met you."

Lieb groans deeply, moving his hand in time with Web's gasping breaths. "You'd tell me that you're almost there, so I'd stop. I'm aching for you right now, Professor."

"I'd turn you around and bend you over my desk," Web continues, and Joe moans.

"Fuck, in your office? Kinky."

David scoffs, but continues. "I'd take off your jeans and underwear, then get the lube out of my desk drawer."

"You've been waiting to fuck me, haven't you, Professor?" Lieb drawls darkly. "You put that there to punish me when for when I fail my next test."

"God, _fuck_ , no. I put it there to celebrate your A on your essay... 'cause you're actually a good student..."

"Not now, Web," Joe chides through gritted teeth, his strokes becoming more desperate. "Just fuck me."

"God, you'd be so tight, feel so good," David describes, his voice thick with arousal. "Fuck, I'm not gonna last much longer."

"It feels _so_ good, Professor. Holy shit, feels so good."

Lieb can hear the catch in Web's voice as he replies. "Fuck, _Liebling_ , I'm cumming—"

With the term of endearment ringing in his ears, Joe finishes with him, arguably the best orgasm he's had in a while.

"Holy shit, Professor."

A little laugh comes from the other end of the phone line. "Please don't call me that."

"I thought you liked that!" Lieb teases, hearing a small, exasperated groan.

"Now it's just weird. Call me David. Or Web."

"Okay, Web, now that we're on a nickname-basis... you know German?"

He can practically feel the blush rising to Webster's face. "Uh, yeah. Sorry about that."

"Maybe I'd let you call me that again if you took me on a real date, Web."

"You're still my student, Joe."

"And you just had phone sex with me and called me your 'darling.'"

"Touché, but it'll have to wait. The semester's almost over; we can keep it on the down-low for a while. It's still technically illegal, Lieb."

"Look, you're what, two years older than me?" He doesn't wait for his response (it's probably closer to four years). "We can stay fuck buddies for a while, and I'll give you my number. Deal?"

Webster sighs, knowing that he can't remove love from lust for very long. "Fine."

Lieb smirks. "Perfect. It'll be our little secret. Professor. Oh, and I still expect an A for the class."

"'A' for asshole, if that's what you mean."

"Now, now. Don't get catty with me, Princess."

"Fuck you."

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how they'd work this out, but hey, at least they had fun... why am I like this?


End file.
